


Family Affairs

by pseudonymitous



Category: Covert Affairs
Genre: Explicit Language, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-22
Updated: 2012-11-16
Packaged: 2017-11-16 20:52:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/543700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudonymitous/pseuds/pseudonymitous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Annie and Auggie are put on Auggie's most personal case yet-- one that blows his deepest secrets wide open.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Waking Up Is Hard To Do

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything from CA, obviously! 
> 
> Also, I would really like feedback on this fic!? Comments appreciated re: characters, story, etc. I'm new to all of this and could use all the help I can get!

It was the kind of night most C.I.A. agents would, and have, killed for. Annie Walker clocked out at 5 p.m. sharp. For the first time in a long time, everything was all squared away. She was so impressed with herself that she skipped a trip to the tavern and cut straight to a night with Ben, Jerry and the DVR. Lights out at 11. It was like a dream, until...

Vvvvv-VVVV.

No. Annie rolled over onto her stomach and buried her face in the pillows. Nope.

Vvvvvv-VVVVVVVV.

She caught a glimpse of Joan's face on the caller ID. Shit. She felt around on the nightstand until she located the Accept Call button. 

"Hello?"

"Annie, I need you in the office now, please." Annie wanted to respond but the line was already dead. Joan was on the warpath. 

The clock said 1:24 a.m.

She stumbled into the bathroom and splashed some water on her face. She inspected the dark circles under her eyes. Despite tonight's rude awakening, they were less noticeable than they had been in months. This meant she was getting better at sleeping alone. It meant she was getting better at sleeping in general. It was progress. It was good.

**

Langley was bustling. Annie couldn't remember the last time she saw this many people on a Monday morning, much less 1:30 a.m. on a Friday.

No sooner was she out of the elevator that she had a hop-on in the form of Auggie Anderson. He attached himself to her elbow and matched her stride down the hall.

"Morning, sunshine," he chirped with obnoxious energy.

"What are you still doing here?" 

"Never left. I'm actually just headed to Joan's now." 

"You too?" Annie cocked her head to the side. "What does she need to talk to you about?" 

"Beats the hell outta me, Walker. Morning pep talks are usually your department. Though it might have to do with whatever imminent crisis has sent the Agency into a frenzy now." 

Annie peeked around. The majority of her coworkers were not only present, but busy. "What did I miss?" 

"Maybe that's what's in the box." 

Auggie flashed her a grin. Before Annie could so much as knock, Joan's door flew open. 

"I need to speak with Auggie first. Annie, wait out here." 

Annie did as she was told. Auggie smirked. "Won't be but a minute." 

 

**

"Please shut the door behind you and take a seat. Chair's on your left," Joan's voice was icier than usual. It put Auggie off.

"No, thanks. I think I'll stand." 

"Suit yourself," Joan rustled some papers. "But you might want to sit down for this."

"For what?" 

Joan took a pause. "I want to preface this by saying that your dedication to the agency is admirable. Your history of professionalism in the face of potential conflicts of interest is nothing short of impressive." 

Auggie's brow furrowed. "You wanted me to take that sitting down?" 

"I'm not finished," Joan snapped. "At 2300 this evening, in Washington D.C.'s International District, a Chinese-American professor named Zhen Yang sold 8 billion dollars worth of American secrets to the Chinese mafia in a backdoor dealing. Apparently, one of the parties didn't come through. Shots were fired. Three members of the mafia are dead. Yang's partner was caught in the crossfire and left for dead."

"Some partner." 

"Auggie, I want to reiterate that if you want nothing to do with this case, we can assign it to someone else." 

"What? Why?" 

"That's where this gets dicey. Yang was a professor at William & Mary College. He taught under the name Charles Yao. His partner was his lover and former student... Lucille Anderson." 

It took him a moment. It felt like the air was sucked out of the room. 

"What? No." 

Joan spoke as if the words hurt to say. "She was shot, we believe, by accident. Something went wrong..." 

"Please tell me she's okay. Oh my god please tell me she's not dead." 

"We have her in custody. The wound was not fatal; the bullet's been removed. She's extraordinarily lucky." 

Auggie wasn't sure if he was going to vomit or not. Now would be a damn good time to be able to locate a trash can. "So, what, you want me to question her?" 

Joan treaded lightly. "If she answers honestly, she could be our greatest asset in finding Yang and keeping those leaks from going viral."

"She's a kid!" Auggie exclaimed, louder than he meant to. 

Joan's voice was hard. "She is a twenty year old woman who was romantically involved with her professor. She's hardly a little girl. If you agree to this mission, you and Walker will be absolutely invaluable." 

"I need to speak with her." 

"And unless you agree to the terms presented, I can't let you do that." 

**

Annie was walking back to the lobby with a cup of coffee when Auggie came storming out of Joan's office, nearly knocking her over.

"Whoa. Hello." 

"You're in my way."

**

Auggie gripped the edges of the sink, wondering if he could rip the whole unit out of the wall. He tried to catch his breath, but no success. He was spitting fire. 

The door opened, followed by the clipped echo of high heels on linoleum.

"You're not supposed to be in here," said the bastard taking a leak nearest the exit. 

"What are you, my mother?" Walker snapped. The guy left, leaving Auggie and Annie alone.

"What are you doing?" Auggie spat.

"Thought I'd reminisce a little. It'd be more poignant if you were on the other side of a stall door, but this will do just as well." She retrieved a towel from the automatic dispenser and ran it under some water. "Plus, you got my coffee all over my shirt, so I'm killing two birds with one stone." 

Auggie laughed mirthlessly. 

"So," Annie put a hand on his shoulder. "You wanna tell me what that was back there?" 

Auggie shook his head, feeling like an obstinate toddler. But there weren't words. 

"Does this have to do with Joan?" Annie prodded.

Auggie exhaled deeply, releasing his grip.

"They have my niece in custody. They're trying to tell me she was involved in some massive sale of government secrets to China..." 

"You're shitting me." 

"Someone shot her." 

"What?! Where?" 

"I don't know. I don't know... They want her to be an asset but I can't..." 

He brought his fist down on the counter. Hard. Fuck. Annie's phone buzzed from the depths of her pocket.

"And there's Joan with the news," she snarled. "Right on schedule." 

She didn't answer it, though. Instead, she put her arm across his shoulders and leaned in, so her lips were only inches from his ear. "Listen to me. This is what we do. But you're going to be all right. Whatever this is, it's all going to be all right."


	2. Colonel Mustard in the Library with the Daddy Issues

Auggie's oldest brother Eric got married in Auggie's freshman year. They were a classic small-town Midwestern couple; high school sweethearts, shotgun wedding, changing their kid's diapers before they could legally drink. Springsteen wrote songs about that shit. 

Eric's wife Julie had been a knockout. Platinum hair, big blue eyes, the kind of body that would make Hugh Hefner do a double-take. She was so far out of Eric's league Auggie was surprised he was even authorized to touch her. Julie was stuck at home in the middle of a blizzard when her water broke. Eric was working at a grocery store, and he couldn't get home. It wasn't uncommon to get snowed in exactly where you didn't want to be. Six months later, Julie took off, leaving Eric and Lucy in the dust. There are people who leave because they want to, there are people who leave because they need to, and there are people who leave because they're scared of being left. Julie was the third kind. Eric responded by moving out of his parents' and pursuing his bachelor's, then his master's and eventually his PhD. 

All of the time away for school left Lucy at Auggie's parents' much of the time. She was there while he was in college, when he came home for Christmas, right before he shipped out. His other brothers had families of their own, but his parents always seemed to have Lucy. "She's our fifth kid," his mother joked once. So, when Eric wasn't, Auggie was. He taught her Morse Code, watched endless bad horror movies with her, showed her how to throw a spiral and play 'House of the Rising Sun' and whistle with a blade of grass. Being with Lucy always took him somewhere else. He couldn't be hostile or sad around her, couldn't be resentful or caught up with work. Coming home meant tall grass and sunshine and hanging out with Lucy, even if he only made it once or twice a year.

Until five years ago. He was invalided home and basically told that man was not meant to be alone. He didn't want to be with his family. He wanted to be by himself in a dark room with a warm gun. But after that brilliant march into traffic, he didn't have that option. It was Lucy who helped convince him that he still had stuff to live for. That life in the dark was better than no life. She was fifteen and it was her turn to teach him things. 

Now, he stood behind two-way glass in an interrogation room at Langley, and she was twenty, and things were about to be harder than they'd ever been, and he wasn't ready.

**

Joan and Annie stood in the hall. Auggie's niece was inside, on the wrong side of the two-way, waiting for them. 

"Remember," Joan said. "She was living with the prime suspect. We have the townhouse on lock, but we need more information than we think she's willing to give us. That's where you and Auggie come in." 

Annie nodded and pushed through the door. Auggie stood a breath away from the glass, tense. 

"You seem calmer," Annie said. He didn't, but she was banking on the power of suggestion.

"She's in there?" 

"On the other side of the glass." 

"Describe the scene to me, please." 

"Well, she's... at the table. Cuffed." Annie decided to leave out the fact that she was handcuffed *to* the table. "Her shoulder is bandaged up."

"You can see the bandage?"

"She's just in a tank top," Annie explained. "I'm guessing the rest of her clothes had blood on them." 

Auggie nodded, jaw clenched. "But she's all right?" 

"Yes. She's all right. Let me warm her up for you." 

The interrogation room echoed more than usual. Annie hated this room. She'd been handcuffed to this desk. She'd also been shot in the chest. Look at that, three things she and the young Ms. Anderson had in common.

"About time someone showed up," the girl sneered. She had traces of Auggie: the same brown hair, cut in an angular pixie; the same big eyes, though Lucy's were blue. Similar shaped jaw and cheekbones. A dash of freckles and thick Brooke Shields eyebrows. She was a lovely girl, really. Until she opened her mouth.

"I'm Annie Walker," Annie extended her hand, but the girl wasn't taking it. "You must be Lucille."

"My friends call me Lucy," the girl said, turning those big eyes on Annie. "You can call me Lucille."

Well fuck me, Annie thought. She was seeing the real family resemblance.

"Lucille, could you tell me a little bit about last night?" 

"You're the CIA, aren't you, Barbie? You tell me." 

"Lucy, if you don't help me, I really can't help you."

Lucy shifted in her chair. "What's there to say? I went out to dinner with my boyfriend, and someone shot me. You've never been shot while out with your boyfriend before, Annie Walker?" 

This girl was just being a smartass, but Annie felt herself recoil. Her hand flew to the scar along her chest, a move she tried to cover by adjusting her top button. 

"Excuse me a moment." 

**

Annie blew in in a puff of Jo Malone Grapefruit. 

"Daddy, baby wants you," she snarled.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Auggie had heard that whole exchange. He could practically hear Annie trembling. He could only imagine what this girl-- this unusually cold and vicious version of Lucy-- was going to do next.

Annie cleared her throat and regained her composure. "She'll be glad to see a familiar face. And I need a new strategy."

Auggie hadn't been in that room since Liza Hearn. He entered slowly, carefully, and took a seat across the table from his niece. He kept her at his seven o'clock-- this would be easier if no one had to directly look at anyone else, if only on principle. 

She smelled like sweat and metal and disinfectant and a little like Marc Jacobs Daisy. He wondered if he'd pick her out of a lineup now. He didn't even know this girl. The smell sealed it for him.

He heard her suck in a sharp breath. "Uncle Auggie." 

"Hey, Lucy." 

"... Who called you?"

"No one called me. Are you all right?" 

"What are you doing here?"

He could hear the panic rising in her voice. He also heard the sound of her cuffs scraping the metal bar across the table. Dammit, why did Annie think it'd be a good idea to leave that out? It was standard procedure. He was a big boy, he could handle it.

Auggie sighed. "Honestly?" 

"I'm handcuffed to a desk with a bullet wound at CIA headquarters, and you're the first person who walks into the interrogation room. I think it might be sharing time." 

"I'm in the CIA." 

She was not expecting that. Auggie raked his hands through his hair. Now he was gonna have to read in his whole fucking family. 

"You're in the CIA." 

"Yeah, now do you want to retrace your steps, tell me how you ended up where you are now?" 

"Honestly? No."

"How about you do it anyway."

"I got shot and left for dead while the intended target bailed with the cash, the secrets and the last of my dignity. The CIA caught wind of it, wrapped me up and shipped me to Langley." 

"Who shot you?" Auggie hadn't wanted to play hardball. He wanted to talk, like they used to, and catch up. That wasn't happening. It was all facts. 

"It was an accident. I got in the way."

"Who was holding the gun? Accident or not, I need to know." 

"A guy." 

He felt his voice rising. "A guy you were fucking?" 

"That is absolutely none of your business. What are you, my father?"

"I might as well be and you know it," he blurted. Fuck it all. That was a thing he meant to think. Never something he meant to say, but it was too late now.

"Lucy, did your boyfriend shoot you?"

Silence. At this point he couldn't gauge whether it was defiant or fearful. She was giving him nothing.

"Lucy, since when do you get involved with white collar criminals ten years your senior?"

"It's been a rough couple years." Her voice was small. More familiar. But something about it was off. "I was majoring in Global Studies, he was my teacher's assistant... One thing led to another..."

"Wait," Auggie froze. "Say that again." 

"He was my teacher's assistant," she repeated, clearer this time.

"You're missing a tooth." 

Lucy recoiled. "What? No." 

He could hear it clearly in the word "assistant." Couldn't place it before, but now it was all he could hear. "I'm blind, not stupid. At least tell me it's not one of the front ones." 

"Bottom left." 

Ten thousand potential scenarios ran through his mind. It was hard to knock out a bottom tooth when you had an overbite like Lucy's. It wasn't the kind of dental emergency that resulted from a sloppy beer bottle or an errant olive pit; usually those just resulted in chips and breaks, anyway... There was one obvious suspect for the loss of a whole tooth like that. It made his blood boil.

"Lucy, was he hitting you?"

His niece fell silent before collapsing into sobs. "It's just been a rough couple years."


	3. Morning Is Broken

Before his accident, Auggie hated being touched. He was not a hugger or a handshaker or a shoulder-patter or any of that. Outside the context of sex, he just wasn't into it. Maybe it was the fact that those sorts of things always made him feel a little too vulnerable. Four brothers and a military background left him a very nice, sterile space bubble, and that was how he liked it.

But in the dark, it's all about touch. Touch is what separates you from a smothering void. Groping along walls, bumping into furniture-- these are the things that show you how rooms are laid out. Auggie had learned to gauge appearance in a whole new way: the severity of one's perfume, the height of the crook of their arm, their balance when they reached up for a kiss. People gave off these amazing auras of heat, a thing he didn't notice until he couldn't see them any more. People were the warmest things next to dogs. Touch connected him to things and people. It was a sense he'd always overlooked.

He rode in the back of a cab, inches away from his niece. She barely gave off any heat at all. She didn't say a word. He heard her fingers rub along the wrist that had been cuffed to the table, whimper ever so softly when a speed bump jostled her injured shoulder, but she seemed just barely alive.

He tilted his face to the cold window, rested his forehead on the glass. It was raining heavily outside, and he paid extra attention to the clip of the drops as the cab sped down the street. The interrogation had been awful, but Joan was right. His presence put the fear of God into Lucy. She was in. He offered to watch her, so to speak, until they could get to work tomorrow. Even though it was 5 a.m. and tomorrow was in five hours and his life was blurring into chunks of time rather than days, again. 

They left the cab and went up to his place.

"Hey, listen, when we get in here, don't-" 

"Move anything. Yeah." 

He dropped his keys in the bowl and made sure the door shut tight behind him.

"Nice place," Lucy commented. "Minimalistic but chic. You have someone do this for you?"

"No, I just picked through Pottery Barn till I saw something I could recreate on a budget." 

Lucy snorted a laugh. She got his sick sense of humor. She was one of the first people to laugh at a blind joke. Actually, she was probably the first person to laugh after his accident, period. 

"Come on, I'll grab you something of mine so you can take a shower. We can get you something real to wear later." 

She followed him to his closet. He grabbed her his smallest pair of pants and one of his shirts. She sucked in a breath reaching for them. "Motherfucker." 

"What is it? You okay?"

"Yeah," she said in a voice that clearly wasn't. "It's just my shoulder."

"Can I see that?" He expected a snarky 'I don't know, can you?' but she didn't offer it. 

"Yeah." She put his hand on the crook of her collarbone. 

He felt the bandage, snaking down to the top of her armpit. "How bad was the wound?" 

"It went straight through my arm," she said. "They pulled out the bullet and stitched me up-- I guess it didn't get anything too important." 

"But you're in a lot of pain?" he asked. Her silence wiggled the arm slightly. He guessed it was a nod. "I can't hear your head rattle." 

"Sorry, yeah." 

"You're breathing pretty rapidly, can you tell me if the skin is blue at all?"

"No," she said. 

"Good. Okay, you're probably okay, I just wanted to make sure... Um. Shower's that way. I'll make you something to eat." 

**

Annie wasn't sure what to make of any of this.

First, there was Auggie and his niece. Annie watched him burn up in the girl's presence, as if separated from her by a wall of fire. He wanted to reach her, but she wasn't letting him. Annie was no stranger to daddy issues, but this girl took the cake. They were meeting up again in a few hours. The hope was that Annie and some of the other Tech Ops guys could figure out where. 

**  
"You made eggs," Lucy's voice was somewhat back to normal. Auggie whirled around. He hadn't even heard her come in. 

"I did. I thought we could talk a little bit before we head back to Langley." 

Lucy filled two mugs with coffee before he could even get to it. "If you insist." 

"We haven't spoken in years, Luce." 

"I haven't really been in touch with the family," Lucy said in a strange voice. "I missed you a lot though." 

"I missed you too, kid." 

"So," she took a seat at the counter. "The CIA." 

"Tech-Ops." 

"So you're, like, the Man." 

"Yes," Auggie chuckled into his coffee. "I am, like, the Man. How about you?"

"I failed out of college, I haven't called my dad in 6 months, I'm in CIA custody, and I am sporting the worst haircut since fifth grade." She started to laugh because he did. "Stop it! My life is tragic." 

"Don't count yourself out yet, kid, you're young." 

She sighed. "I'm sorry I didn't call you." 

"You should've gotten me on the phone as soon as things started going downhill," Auggie took the tone of a disciplinarian. "I would've helped you and you know it." 

"Well, you weren't really accessible..." 

"I didn't even know you were at William and Mary, Luce. I would've been there in 5 minutes, on your doorstep, but you never came to me. Instead, you went to your professor."

"I just worried about you too much to ask you, okay?" she blurted.

He felt himself deflate. "Is that what this is?" 

"Things changed after your accident. The roles reversed and I didn't want to burden you with my issues when you were dealing with your own." 

"Sounds like you have been talking to your dad after all." 

"Listen, Uncle Auggie, you have this amazing place here and apparently a great job and that's so good. It's a lot better than I expected. I went to school in Virginia because I wanted to be close enough to some family, but I never wanted to bother you." 

"Lucy, I promise you could never worry about me as much as I worry about you. Not ever." He made his way over to her, tracing along the edge of the counter until he was right next to her. He opened his arms, hoping she'd hug back. She collapsed into tears. He felt himself on the brink. "But you're here now. And you're safe. I promise."

Lucy sniffed, her hot tears working into the front of his shirt. Damn, she'd gotten tall. Time was a bastard.

When she finally spoke, her voice was soft. "Are you mad at me?" 

Auggie rested his chin on top of her head, really thinking it over. "No." 

"No?" 

"You fell in love with the wrong person and, as a result, wound up getting arrested. Under normal circumstances, I would be highly disappointed. However, I am in no place to judge." 

Lucy pulled away, suspicious. He knew the look she was giving him, even though he couldn't see it. He'd seen it enough before, to last him a lifetime. "What did you do?" 

Auggie tilted his head back and sighed to the ceiling. "Take a seat, it's time I told you about the woman who will never be your Aunt Parker."


	4. In (Different) Treatment

The Lucy that met Annie in the lobby at 10 a.m. was very different from the one she'd met only a few hours earlier. She was cleaner, fresher, clad in her uncle's menswear.

Auggie, on the other hand, looked like hell on fire. His clothes were unchanged, he had some stubble coming in, and the bags under his eyes could've anchored a hot air balloon. He raked his fingers through his hair and it stayed that way, brushed off his forehead in a way that was equally adorable and inappropriately boyish. Annie was tempted to reach up and fix it herself, but that would've been unimaginably awkward, partly because his reaction time was way down, and partly because she had no idea how to explain it to his niece. 

"Good morning, Andersons," Annie attempted to come across as the person she had to be-- the most awake, the most cheerful and the most alert of the three. "I grabbed a couple of things from home for you, Lucy, if you want to try them on. Ladies' room is that way." 

Lucy obliged, taking the bag and vanishing. 

"They find the piece of shit yet?" Auggie asked, taking a seat on a nearby bench. 

Annie joined him. "They've found him and his car, but as long as he's in the car, a couple of agents are just tailing him. One of the mafia members has been taken into custody, but he insists Zhen Yang left with the intel." She pulled a mint out of her purse and pressed it in his hand. "Also, you have coffee breath. You all right?" 

"I am the opposite of all right, Walker." 

"How come you never told me about her?" 

"Because my family are a bunch of meddling midwestern pains in my ass," he said with a smirk. "No, they're fine, but they worry about me. They worried about me when I was deployed-- what little they knew about my deployment anyway-- and they really worried about me after my accident."

"So you withdrew." 

"That's symptomatic of being in the CIA," Auggie laughed. "But I'm the youngest of five sons, all really close in age, and people always kind of fussed over me. I mean, not my brothers, they kicked the living shit out of me when we were kids. But my parents. And when I had my accident, my brothers really didn't know how to handle it. But Lucy was the first grandkid and she and I always had a special bond. She was the only one who didn't treat me different after my accident."

"So you're not going to treat her differently after hers," Annie said. It wasn't meant to be a question. 

Auggie thought it over for a moment. "What kind of uncle would I be if I did?"


	5. Breaking Bottles

The plan was simple. Annie and Lucy were going to go to the townhouse Lucy shared with the perp, and Lucy was going to get the intel from him, and then they were going to take him into custody. It was, in theory, so easy. Except Zhen Yang was not going into the townhouse. 

Annie and Lucy cut around the back, and Lucy dug the spare key out of a hanging flowerpot. She looked good in Annie's shirtdress, tall and lean and model-thin. Annie was having clothes envy all over the place. She might let Lucy just keep it. 

"Sorry it's a mess," Lucy whispered. "We never have anybody over." 

"Gagging at the proverbial 'we,'" Auggie piped up from the other end of Annie's cell phone. 

"Please don't," Annie hissed, hanging up. 

The apartment wasn't a mess. It was impeccably clean. There were Asian tapestries on the living room wall, shelves full of leather-bound books, a large Persian rug and woven floor cushions positioned around a gorgeous round coffee table. The decor was nicer than anything Annie could dream of. This was not the kind of place a destitute student and T.A. inhabited.

"Lovely home," Annie commented. 

"Thanks," Lucy said. "Charlie-- I mean, um, Yang, collects antiques from around the world. He's very well-travelled."

Annie detected a hint of pride in Lucy's tone, and that scared her a little bit. This was a victim who, despite her best judgment, loved and admired her abuser. Annie knew the feeling well, and it turned her stomach. 

"So how does one hook up with their T.A., exactly?" Annie asked in her flirtiest girl-talk voice. 

"He expressed an interest in me," Lucy said matter-of-factly. "He was learned and well-traveled and I guess I expressed an interest back. Eventually, he started to come before school. He was so absorbed in work... I don't know, a lot has changed since we first got together." 

"What does your dad think of it?" 

"Oh, he doesn't know," Lucy half-chuckled. "If there's one thing you need to know about my dad, it's that he's a worrier. Me, Auggie, my grandparents, everybody. He has this weird ability to never be present but always be obsessed with everyone's well-being anyway. It's pretty fucked up." 

"What about Auggie?" Annie was so curious it hurt. "You guys seem pretty close." 

"I stayed with my grandparents a lot as a kid, and he was around a lot, and I don't know, we just clicked. Favorite uncle, you know?" A lazy smile spread across Lucy's face. "He just... he always took care of me." 

"Still does," Annie commented, forgetting for a minute that the whole place was bugged and Auggie could hear every word and then some.

"What's with you guys?" Lucy asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Oh we don't... I mean... Not..." Annie fumbled. Just as her phone began to vibrate in her pocket. And a key began to turn in the front lock. Oh no. "Act naturally, he can't suspect anything. Good luck."

Annie took off out the back just as Zhen Yang entered through the front.

"Hey, baby," Annie heard Lucy say cheerfully. Annie stepped up on the retaining wall for a better look through the kitchen window.

Yang muttered something to himself, slamming his briefcase down on the counter and taking off his coat. 

"Do you want something to drink?" Lucy placed a hand on his shoulder. He violently shrugged it off. 

"Busy," he barked, frantically opening and shutting cupboards in search of something. 

"Are you looking for something?" Lucy asked.

"I SAID. I AM BUSY," Yang shouted. Annie could see him losing it, getting sweaty and panicked. Something was gone from the house. What was it? 

"What are you looking for?" Lucy asked sweetly, reaching into the fridge. 

Yang whirled around, moving to lay a hand on Lucy, but she beat him to it, cracking a bottle of wine over his head. 

"You're looking for this, you dumb motherfucker," she said to his unconscious form. She held a black credit card in the hand that didn't have the cracked bottle. "You left it in the crisper. And I swear you are not going to see a dime of it."

* *  
Auggie was about to high five everybody he ever met. This was the best possible outcome. Yang was in custody, his black market bank card was coming with him (to be deposited to the FBI), and Lucy had, from what he could tell, just wasted a bottle of wine in the best possible way.

"Good day," he crowed. "Good fuckin' day."


	6. The Aftermath

Lucy stood over her ex-boyfriend's inert body for a long moment. Annie decided now was the time to bust in through the back door like a damn hero, even though Lucy had just done all the damn hero work. Annie pointed her gun at Yang and turned to Lucy. 

"That was impressive," she managed. "I mean, despite being a flagrant abuse of protocol." 

"I found this earlier," Lucy said, handing her the card. "It's what he was looking for... He has a couple million in an illegal account."

"He was going to make a break for it," Annie murmured. She shoved the card in her pocket and went to Yang's briefcase. There was the hard drive, sitting pretty. "Well, Anderson, you did good. Let's get the hell out of here." 

* *

No sooner was Auggie in celebration mode, Joan was in his office. 

"I need you to call your brother." 

Auggie spun around in his chair. "I'm sorry, I've been wearing these very expensive, noise-cancelling headphones, and I think I misheard you. In fact, I must have, because I could've sworn you just asked me to call my brother." 

"I didn't ask you. I told you." 

* * 

Lucy was awfully quiet in the passenger seat. Annie glanced over. "You okay?" 

"Ask me when this is all over," Lucy said. "I'm sort of in shock." 

"Well, you didn't kill him," Annie said. "That should be of some comfort to you." 

"Yeah," Lucy sighed. "I probably should have. I mean, he got me tangled up with the mafia and shot me and everything. It wouldn't be beyond the scope of logic." 

"No, no. Trust me. Revenge kills... They don't soothe the conscience. They just create new problems." 

Lucy gazed out the window at the beginnings of a rainstorm. "I, uh... I don't really know what I would've done without you."

"Thank Auggie," Annie said with a shrug. "He's got your back, Lucy. He misses you." 

"I don't really know what I would've done without him... ever," Lucy conceded. "I miss him too and I just feel like I fucked everything up..."

"You didn't. I swear. He's family. You forgive your family," Annie bit her lip. "Your uncle's kind of my family too." 

The corner of Lucy's mouth turned up in a grin. "You're lucky to have him." 

That wasn't what Annie was expecting, but she couldn't deny it. "Yeah. I am extremely lucky to have him." 

"I really hoped he'd find his stride, you know? I had no idea this was the sort of thing he did. I mean, the CIA? Fuck. I didn't see it coming." 

"I once heard that people don't choose the CIA, the CIA chooses them. I think the CIA definitely chose your uncle. It certainly chose me. And... from what I saw today, I think it might be choosing you, too." 

Lucy's eyes widened. "I don't know." 

"Come on, you took a bullet, you rendered a man senseless in like five seconds, you've got nothing to lose. You're perfect. Just think it over." 

* * 

Eric answered on the fifth ring of the third try. 

"This is Eric." 

"Eric, it's Auggie." 

"Auggie? Wow, hey, how long has it been?" 

"Listen, I don't really know how to tell you this, but we've got your kid in CIA custody and we're holding her at Langley."

"You have Lucy in CIA custody?" 

"When was the last time you spoke to your daughter?" 

Silence on the other end of the line. 

"Listen, if you're anywhere near DC, I suggest you haul ass to Langley. Your kid needs you."


	7. Beginning's End

Auggie walked into Allen's like he was walking into a boxing ring. He and Eric were always on the opposite sides of things, parentheses in the birth order. Eric said black, Auggie said white. That was how it had always been, and today was going to be heavy.

Today, however, Eric met him at the door and walked him to a table. This was not what he'd been expecting. 

"Been a long time," Eric said, clearing his throat. He smelled like Head and Shoulders and cologne designed for a much younger man. 

"That it has. You want a beer?" 

"I want to know what happened with Lucy." 

* *  
Lucy and Annie arrived at Langley about half an hour after Yang. They stood on the other side of the two-way panel as Joan conducted an interrogation.

"How's it feel to be on this side of the glass?" Annie asked.

"Better. Thanks, Barbie." 

Annie's phone rang. "It's your uncle. Do you mind if I take this?" 

Lucy nodded and Annie went out into the hall. "Hey, where are you?" 

"Other end of the hall." 

She looked up to see him walking towards her, with a man who looked considerably like him close behind. They both hung up their phones. 

"Annie Walker, this is my brother Eric Anderson." 

Eric's hair was salt and pepper, Annie guessed he couldn't have been more than a decade older than Auggie. They had the same deep brown eyes, the same cowlick, the same dimples. Annie shook his hand. "So nice to finally meet you." 

"Where's Lucy?" 

Annie fumbled slightly in the face of his abruptness. "I- I'll go get her for you." 

"Thank you, Annie," Auggie said pointedly.

"Thank you, Annie," Eric repeated.

"Hey, sweetie, your dad's here." Lucy's face blanched.

"He's here?" 

Annie grinned. "It's going to be fine. He just wants to make sure you're okay."

Lucy exited, leaving Annie alone behind the two-way glass. She leaned up against the wall and sank to the floor. She took a deep breath for the first time in almost 24 hours. Her eyes were almost closed when the door opened. 

"Annie?"

* *  
"Down here, Auggie." 

Auggie felt along the wall and slid down beside her. "Oh man. Sitting. This is nice." 

"How did it go with your brother?" 

"I told him how I feel. About his parenting, about Lucy. About everything." 

"And what'd he say?"

"Well, he didn't punch me in the face," he laughed mirthlessly. "I think he and his daughter have a lot to talk about." 

"You think it'll stick?" 

Auggie sighed, rubbing his eyes. "God, I really hope so." 

"She needs you, Aug. And I'm sorry to say it but you need her, too." 

"Couldn't have done it without you, Walker. I mean that." 

Annie scooted closer and rested her head on his shoulder. She was the warmest body he knew. He leaned into her, too, letting long-deserved rest wash over him. Lucy was back in his life, his best friend was literally millimeters away. For the first time in forever, in the weird cold of the interrogation room, he felt safe. Complete. Peaceful. 

"Dammit, Walker, are you falling asleep on me?" 

"No," Annie lied. 

"Yeah, I bet." 

They sat there for a long time, listening to Joan conduct her interrogation of a man who was going to hell in a handbasket either way, before Annie spoke.

"Auggie?"

"What is it, Annie?" 

"I think Lucy should join the agency." 

"Yup. Moment's ruined."


End file.
